


Arrangement

by ziusura



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: D/s, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Present Tense, Spanking, non sexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 13:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziusura/pseuds/ziusura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When things get too hard for him to handle—when the guilt becomes too much—he comes to her and asks for what he needs, and she gives it to him. Nothing more and nothing less. </p><p>---</p><p>Or the one I wrote because I wanted Derek to get spanked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> So it was 1am and I decided to sit down and make myself write more for my wip or my big bang, and this came out instead, haha.

It’s in the quiet moments that she sees it. He’s too tense; his shoulders are back and upright in typical leadership command, but when he thinks no one’s watching he slumps forward and rolls his shoulders in a forced relaxation attempt she’s seen all too often in the archery competitions she’s participated in over the years. He’s acting out too, but Allison won’t listen to that. If Derek’s going to get what he needs he’ll do it on her terms. Shoving Scott or Isaac or Lydia especially hard or biting out a scathing comment to them in her presence won’t get him shit and he should know that after the years they’ve had their arrangement.

When things get too hard for him to handle, when the guilt becomes too much, he comes to her and asks for what he needs, and she gives it to him. Nothing more and nothing less. 

She’s right in the end, not that she expected otherwise. Derek rings the doorbell to her family’s apartment a few days later, looking pretty dry for how hard it had been raining outside, and if Allison were the betting type she’d say he had probably permanently ground the plush carpet in front of their door an eighth of an inch or so with all his pacing. 

Allison doesn’t open the door all the way right away, instead choosing to plant her body half in the space she let the door drift open. Derek’s staring intently at his shoes and Allison’s content to let him. Working up the courage to ask is hard for him, she knows, but she won’t let him in until he does. That’s how it works. And if he doesn’t within a certain amount of time, she shuts the door and he comes back to try again the next day. 

"Please," he eventually croaks out when Allison hits cent trente-quatre (she’d needed to practice her french), and his shoulders sag forward. He’s still looking at his feet, absentmindedly chewing his lip while he stares, but that’s enough admission for her to open the door to reveal her full body. It’s not yet an invitation, but it’s encouragement. She’s here for him. “I need it," Derek whispers to the floor, his voice a rough wave in their tense silence. 

Allison opens the door fully and steps back, and Derek finally breathes. 

"Remove your pants and your boxers if you have them on—your shirt is optional—then kneel in front of the blue chair in the living room. I will bring you a pen and paper and you will write what you need from me if you can’t say it. I will be using my hands today, but you can choose if they’re wet or dry." 

Allison learned long ago that if she gave Derek the option, he would always choose the hardest, most painful way for her to spank him because he thinks he deserves nothing less. She does this for him so she’s not adverse to using some of the more painful tools in her arsenal if he asks for them, but he responds best to her hands and she wants to give him the best. If that means an extra long spanking because he can’t ease his guilt fast enough with her hands alone, so be it. 

She heads to the kitchen to grab a popcorn bowl (he’ll surely choose a wet spanking and Allison isn’t one to forego preparedness) and the front door clicks behind her, Derek assumed to have shut it after he entered. There’s a rustle of fabric and a heavy thunk in the room next to her, and Allison tamps down on a smile. She leaves the bowl on the counter, but grabs the small notebook and pen her dad leaves next to the house phone and takes it and herself into the living room.

Derek’s kneeling with his hands modestly covering his genitals in front of the blue chair when she walks in, though slightly off center. Chances were he was trying to get her angry enough to use the paddle on him, but she isn’t mad. Her directions didn’t say to kneel centered. He’s still in the grey henley he wore to her apartment, but his pants are folded neatly to his left. No underwear apparently, she notes. 

She drops the pen and notebook on the chair in front of him, and Derek breaks his stare with the leg of the chair to finally look up at her. He opens his mouth to say something, but fumbles through a few vague word-sounding noises before he shuts it again. Allison bites down on a smile and squeezes his shoulder lightly. It’s fine that he can’t talk. That’s why she uses the notebook for his visits. 

Allison leaves him to it and goes back for the bowl she left in the kitchen before heading over to her bedroom and her ensuite bathroom. She fills the bowl halfway with lukewarm water and sets it on her end table by her bed. She had to clear off a few knick-knacks and pictures, but that was okay; she didn’t mind. Before she leaves the room completely she changes into a tank top and sweats, mostly for comfort but partially because she was wearing a skirt before and she didn’t actually want Derek’s penis rubbing up against her bare lap. 

When she heads back into the living room Derek has removed his henley and centered himself in front of the blue chair. The notebook is offered in front of him on the chair like a present, and when Allison picks it up it’s mostly full of scribbles, but there’s a distinct “hands-wet- _hard_ " in the center (directions) and the word “alpha" boxed in the lower right (safe word. It’s been the same one since they started the arrangement). 

"Stand up and carry your clothing to my bedroom. Leave the clothes where you’d like when you’re in there, and then stand and wait for me in front of my end table with the big green bowl resting on it." 

Derek gets up without looking at her and does exactly that. Allison counts to _deux cents_ before she follows him in.

He’s looking shy and nervous, which looks strange on a man of his size and musculature, but he meets her eyes when she comes in and shuts and locks the bedroom door behind her (it’d be a little too strange for her father to see, she thinks). Allison sits on the edge of her bed, her knees knocking against Derek’s thighs, and pats her lap gently as an invitation. Derek’s on her in an instant, his ass high in the air and his face pressed tightly to her mattress, and Allison might have laughed at his silent insistence if she didn't know how bad Derek was hurting for a spanking. 

Allison takes her time with the bowl of water. She wouldn’t admit it to a soul, but she likes the careful and measured work of transferring handfuls of water to Derek’s ass (and _what_ an ass it is). The touching part is definitely a bonus, but she saves that for times when she’s by herself with her hands and maybe a toy or two; it’s Derek’s time, not hers. 

"Please," he whispers into her comforter, impatient, and Allison playfully flicks the side of his ass in response, but she puts the bowl back on the end table anyway. It _is_ probably wet enough. She wets her own hands for good measure anyway—Derek would hate it if she didn’t—and plants one right on his right cheek. He isn’t expecting it and he barely cuts off a yelp when she quickly follows it up with a sharp slap to his left.

For a while there’s just the sound of her hand hitting his ass, Derek’s harsh pants, and the occasional water swirl when she reaches into the bowl to wet her hand again. The first bit is always rough, when he hasn’t quite fallen into himself yet and keeps trying to tell himself he doesn’t need it in his head, even though he’s well aware that he does. 

Allison knows the point he lets himself have it. His back rolls downward in tidal a wave of relaxation and he practically melts into her lap before she delivers another hit and he lets out a quiet, pained noise. It scared her so bad the first time she got to this point with Derek that she stopped, like the time she discovered a dirty story online when she was twelve and felt heat pool into her stomach. She’d stopped because she thought she’d given herself an orgasm of all things, instead of just being turned on for the first time. Hindsight was funny that way.

She switches over to her left hand (it’s never as accurate but it’s just as hard, and that’s all that matters at this point anyway) and starts to rub small soothing circles into Derek’s lower back with her right. The skin beneath her hand trembles and the sobs come faster and louder. 

"That’s it," she says lightly, punctuating her words with a hard slap, and Derek hiccups, tries to curl in on himself. “Shhh, none of that now," she says immediately and slaps him extra hard on the lower part of his ass in the soft part where it meets his thigh. It has the desired effect and Derek adjusts himself so he’s in Allison’s lap where she likes again. 

Derek starts to thrash about and begins to pant ragged little things into his arm in lieu of crying out. Allison’s not worried that he’ll hit her, but she pins his hips with her right arm anyway to try and contain the damage. He’s lost in himself and she doesn’t want to pull him out of it to tell him to be careful. She’s a big girl. 

He’s nearly there, so she changes up her hits to something with less rhyme and reason. Soft, hard, gliding pull, wet hands, hard, hard, left cheek, right cheek, soft. Allison’s right hand resumes the soft petting against his hip bone, but she still presses her body weight against him. 

Then finally, he lets out one big breath and stills on her lap. She takes him through it with light taps that probably sting far more than she’s aware of against his reddened ass, and his ass twitches against her fingertips in a silent thank you. 

When the last bit of tension leaves his body and Allison finally lets herself feel the pain in her hand, she pulls back and arranges Derek until he’s in her arms rather than on her lap. Derek slumps down into her warmth immediately and pulls her tight against him, and Allison mumbles soft words against his hair and temple, pressing soft kisses there when she dares. She doesn’t know what she’s saying (she can guess though—probably a variation of “you were so good" from the way he goes soft and pliant in her arms), but it doesn’t matter anyway. Derek isn’t there for her words but the tone she uses them in. 

It’s usually at this point that her heart breaks for Derek. She wouldn’t be his first choice for comfort, but that’s not what he’s there for anyway. He wants to be punished so he can finally forgive himself, and who’s better for punishment to a Hale than an Argent? Allison is just happy he lets her in enough to give him that. 

Minutes or hours later, Allison doesn't know, Derek pulls away on his own and puts his clothes on from where he left them on her window seat. He slides his pants on gingerly when the waist reaches his ass, but he’s grinning softly while he does it and Allison barely keeps herself from returning it.

"Thanks, Allison," he says softly when he's dressed, his voice a little rough from the crying and his eyes focused somewhere to her left, and turns to her bedroom door. Allison is curious about why he was as tense as he was, she always is, but she won't ask. It's his business and she'll be there if he needs her to be. 

Allison smiles gently in return and stands up to push him lightly towards the door. She won’t show him out, but to the bedroom door is fine. “I just wish you didn’t let it get this bad before you asked me," she mutters when the door shuts behind him. He can hear her, he always does, but it doesn’t change a thing. That’s just how their arrangement works.


End file.
